


The Night We Met

by Saudadetea



Category: iKON (Korea Band)
Genre: Demisexuality, First Times, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, POV Alternating, a sleezy guy who gets punched, alternative universe, ceo hanbin, demisexual hanbin, i forget what i need to tag, minor trauma, potential trigger warnings for assault, student bobby, thank goodness this is fiction because i'm making up the rules as i go, the first chapter is scary? but the rest of this is fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2019-08-26 09:09:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16678720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saudadetea/pseuds/Saudadetea
Summary: Bobby and Hanbin never met before this night. But that doesn’t stop Bobby from punching a stranger to defend him and Hanbin realizing he might be falling in love.aka Hanbin gets high (non-consensually) and Bobby is the metaphorical knight in shining armor who saves him.





	1. Let me take you home

**Author's Note:**

> read the tags please

Blue lights flash over head, white strobes and green lasers following. Their cross beams meeting in a split second of artistry before spinning away in swooping circles around the room.

And yet, it was still somewhat enjoyably dark.

The music banged and wailed in electronic symphonies, impressing the darkened  
silhouetted dancers on the floor. Their forms misshapened into one moving mass until the lights highlighted their individual faces.

There were corporate accountants, PR specialists, and tech developers here tonight. All amongst the many other coworkers that Hanbin had invited out with him.

But for Hanbin himself, he preferred sitting at the bar and watching from afar.

He just wasn’t one for such crowds, but he knew the importance of being here, of being one with his employees. And through a string of trial and error due to their drunk flirting and dance floor kidnapping, Hanbin has since found the best place to put himself that allowed him presence but not so much the easy abductablity.

Not that a few wouldn’t try wooing him out. But they were always met with one of his polite refusals of ‘ _maybe later’_.

But for the most part, the rest of his colleagues were fine with just finding his eye from across the bar and raising a toast in thanks. And just like that, the black card with Hanbin’s name on it picked up another expense.

While Hanbin, with the worst alcohol tolerance known to man, raises the cranberry juice dressed up in a wine glass. He tips it towards them in salute.

That was his secret of course. He already had a glass of bubbly champagne at their earlier dinner and it was enough to make him a little giddy and buzzed. Anymore and he’d surely be a mess. 

But looks mattered, as his father always told him. “ _People feel awkward if you decline to drink with them. They always take it the wrong way_.”

Hanbin still after all this time remembers the lesson. Himself, a teenager taken under his father’s wing and in the process of being groomed to take control of the family business.

 

 

_He sits straight and attentive on the paisley mint green cushions of his mother’s parlor couch as the man he most admires graciously showcases the stocked bar to him._

“ _I’m sorry to say that the men of our family have bad luck with liquor and even with your mother’s tolerance it was still not enough to skip you. As I’m sure you’re well aware.”_

_He gives Hanbin a knowing smile. Perhaps having found the emptied beer bottles buried deep in the recycling bin or just knowing Hanbin had spent that same night curled up shamefully in his room’s bathtub._

_It had only taken one bottle to make his vision spin. Two to make him forget the rest._

_“When it’s expected that you drink, be it for the benefit of others or to fit in at events, remember no standard bar is complete without fruit juices for mixing.”_

_His father pulls out a bottle of red cranberry juice and another of bronze apple juice._

_“Your wine,” he says tapping the cranberry juice. “Order it in stemmed glassware.”_

_“Your whiskey and scotch,” he moves on to the apple juice. “Two fingers worth in a wide brimmed glass.”_

_He puts these bottles away and pulls out a triangular shaped glass._

_“This,” he tips the empty glass towards Hanbin. “Filled with water and a toothpick of olives will look like your standard vodka martini. And if it is not enough still, then stick to ciders and low percentage mixed drinks.”_

_Hanbin marvels at the white lying wisdom._

_“But what if you are brought a drink?” He asks. “Surely this is not foolproof.”_

_“My dear Hanbin,” his father intones slipping the glass back into its spot and rounding the bar to be closer to him. “The most important thing about all of this is that you keep your wits.”_

_Hanbin looks up, his father’s kind autumn brown eyes look down to him. He always appeared so cool, unruffled and respectful even when standing perfectly still._

_“My advice is to drink slowly even if its juice. Befriend your bartender and tip them nicely for they deal with drunks and fools all night.”_

_He reaches out a hand and taps the middle of Hanbin’s forehead, “and when this is not enough then remember your words and actions. Be always —"_

_“Gracious and never condescending for it is easy to listen and be heard when others feel they are your friend,” Hanbin finishes the motto proudly._

_“Yes,” his father approves. “Very good, Hanbin.”_

 

 

Hanbin checks his watch, half past nine. If he leaves now he could make it home to catch the evening news and perhaps get a head start on his weekend reading list. 

Pulling out his phone he’s already typing in the club’s address for the public car service app when someone comes up next to him.

“Leaving so soon? The night is young still.”

Hanbin blackens his screen, canceling the would be request for a ride and turns to this newcomer.

A young man with ashy blonde hair leans an elbow to the bar, blocking Hanbin’s view of the dance floor.

“I’m afraid I have the habits of an old man with a bedtime before midnight,” Hanbin humors.

Naturally the man laughs, “please, allow me to buy you a drink. I heard you’re a company man and that’s something we have in common.”

Hanbin smiles. He wasn’t _just_ a company man. He’s the _Vice President_ of Kim Haus. A high end market retailer for top of the line cameras and photography equipment.

“I already have a drink,” Hanbin motions to the few sips left in his glass of pretend wine. “But I welcome your company if you’d delight me in the chance of conversation.”

The words come easily enough to him even though Hanbin would rather it not be so.

But again his father's ingrained wisdom comes to mind.

“ _Many will want your attention, Hanbin-ah. And it is best to leave them wanting more than to think their time is worth less than your own.”_

The man cocks a grin that Hanbin regards as arrogant and dangerous, “but you are nearly done. Let me get you something stronger.”

Hanbin’s smile doesn’t falter.

“ _It’s easy to burn bridges, and while trust is fragile it pays off in more ways than one. Keep that in mind as alliances are less destructive than enemies._ ”

“Two whiskeys,” the man calls to the closet bartender.

The worker catches Hanbin’s eye and subtly nods. When he returns he places their whiskeys before them spread apart on square napkins. Making it harder to differentiate the slight mismatched coloring in the liquids.

Hanbin reaches for the one closest to him. But the other male caps his palms over the rim of their drinks to hand them out himself.

For a second Hanbin’s heart drops.

Should the glasses be mixed the man would realize that one was actually apple juice.

Hanbin reaches out with his left hand. He was using a mind trick he picked up after finding that it was easier to hand off things when people mirrored each other. 

The male thankfully hands him the correct glass and Hanbin sips at the sweet tree born fruit.

“Thank you,” he says. He tips the glass toward the other, and makes for an official greeting, “my name is Kim Hanbin.”

“Oh. Of course,” the man grins. “I heard of you.”

 

\+ + + 

  

Bobby’s phone dings just as he gets back into his car. He had left to help his last rider carry the groceries stored in his trunk up to her third floor apartment.

The woman was so surprised by it that no other words but “ _thank you, really you’re too kind_ ” came out of her mouth. And Bobby could only bow and tell her that he was happy to help.

Which was always true. His chivalry and willingness to do good knew no bounds.

Plus the extra tips it’d often get him didn’t hurt.

He had student loans to pay off mind you. So exploiting that side of him came naturally enough. That and it wasn’t like it would making this fucked up world any worse.  

He checks his car sharing app for the next customer. Hitting accept, their address and profile info pops up on his screen.

 _Kim Hanbin_ , 15 minutes away and 30 minute ride total. Bobby revs his engine. Easy.

 

\+ + +  

 

 _You’re not drunk_ Hanbin tells himself while standing over the club’s bathroom sink. _You had a glass of cranberry juice, and two fingers worth of apple juice. You’re_ **_not_ ** _drunk._

But he had a hard time believing it.

Something just wasn’t right.

His phone chirps from inside his pocket but Hanbin doesn’t hear it over the running water.

He’s dizzy and suddenly lethargic. All his thoughts are spinning tirelessly, but to actually speak or move takes concentration.

It seriously feels like everything was moving. Even the stationary objects. But more bizzarily the other men that come and go with pitying glances tossed toward him leave with orbiting copies of themselves going around their heads.  

That certainly didn’t happen the last time he was drunk.

 _You’re_ **_not_ ** _drunk_ , he reminds himself and runs another cool hand over his face.

Maybe this was just the stuffiness of the club and the week long lack of sleep getting to him.

At the very least he had managed to finally schedule himself a ride after pardoning himself from the man at the bar.

The latter only introducing himself as Yang, a salesman at a fairly rival-able company.

Hanbin turns off the water and that’s when he hears the melodic ringing from his pocket.

For a second he just stands there not really comprehending the sound.

 _Phone_ , he thinks. _Someone is calling your phone_.

The noise stops with a disgruntled beep, but then just as quickly restarts.

Hanbin wipes a hand on his shirt before pulling the device out.

An unknown number comes up, Hanbin hesitates before letting muscle memory connect the call and guide his phone up to his ear.

“ _Hello_ ?” A scratchy male voice comes through. “ _Kim Hanbin_?”

“Hello,” Hanbin says, feeling sort of dazed as he does so. “Speaking.”

“ _Hi_ ,” the voice greets again a little softer this time. “ _’m outside the club now. Will you be coming out soon? It’s been about ten minutes already and the ride request will cancel in fifteen if you don’t confirm it._ ”

There’s a pause and then the voice adds in, “I _’m your driver by the way. Bobby. Did you still want the ride_?”

“Yes,” Hanbin says. “I’ll be... I’ll be right—“

Hanbin had tried to move toward the door of the restroom. But the second he leans away from the sink his body sways and the room warps.

He grips the sink again to right himself, giggling slightly from the dizziness.

The sound surprises him.

“I’m sorry,” he finally says and something inside him breaks into a panic.

 _Something’s not right. Something’s not right. Something’s not right_ — **_shut up_** , he thinks. Or maybe he’s said that last bit out loud because the guy on the phone, Bobby, sounds afronted when he says Hanbin’s name again.

“Something’s not,” Hanbin starts but doesn’t finish. Another nervous laugh starts to bubble up and Hanbin forces himself to quell it to the best of his abilities.

“I’m having a hard time walking,” Hanbin frowns at straight lines of tiles on the floors and the patterns on the wallpaper starting to move on their own.  

He turns his head, his final words coming out a little more desperate than he meant them. “Could you help me?”  

There's a stretch of thoughtful silence. And then noises. Rustling and a few electronic dings before a car door shuts.

The bathroom door reopens then too as if timed to sounds on the phone. But it’s Yang who appears and takes in the sight of Hanbin a little too appreciatively.

Hanbin’s breathing spikes.

 _You’re not drunk_ , Hanbin tells himself. _You’re not drunk because you’ve actually been drugged._

“ _Where are you exactly_?” Bobby asks through the phone. It feels like he’s miles away from Hanbin now.

Hanbin closes his eyes for a second, his voice coming thick to his throat. “Men’s bathroom.”

“ _Ok_ ,” Bobby says sounding strangely sure. “ _I’ll be right there Hanbin. Don’t move. Can you stay on— the — li—”_

Hanbin tries to hold on to his phone as Yang takes it from him. Bobby’s voice growing distant as it retreats.

He could only watch it happen. Too weak and slow to do anything else.

Yang swiftly presses the end call button and darkens the screen. Then slides the phone into Hanbin’s breast pocket.

“Now our real conversation starts, Mr. Kim.”

 

\+ + +  

 

“– stay on the line with me,” Bobby says as he jogs across the street and up to the bouncer at the door. But the line disconnects as Bobby flashes his id to the guy.

Hanbin must have not heard him.

The man nods and Bobby swings past him, keeping the phone in his hand should he need it.

He’s dealt with drunks before. This wasn’t even his first search and rescue request so to speak. But something was different about this one.

If Bobby didn’t know any better he would say that Hanbin sounded scared. And that puts Bobby on edge.

He spots the bathrooms on the other side of the floor. A throng of dancers separating him from it.

This was supposed to be an easy gig, he could have been like countless other drivers that wait out the time quietly and take the penalty payment the app issues the user. But he wasn’t like that.

He cares for people and now he’s full of what if’s and a promise that he wouldn’t be leaving here without Kim Hanbin in tow.

 

\+ + + 

  

Yang pulls Hanbin out into the hall. Or rather half carries as Hanbin’s legs weakly buckle and trip over his feet.

“I know you got the Xscura account,” Yang hisses. All formality exhibited by the male earlier now gone.  

Hanbin shakes his head, not placing that name at first, “what?”

He’s yanked to a stop a little ways down from the bathroom door. And if Hanbin’s mind could process things a little more quickly he’d realize Yang was building an alibi. Putting them in a public spot so it’d be his word against a seemingly drunk Hanbin.

Even the music was louder out here. Enough to drown out whatever it is that they’ll say from passing ears.

Yang drops his arm and Hanbin sways back against the wall.

“ _Xscura_ ,” Yang says more slowly. “Is launching a new product line for their digital cameras. They went out for bid to give one _single_ company exclusive selling rights for the quarter of the year.”

Hanbin hiccups a laugh then, he doesn’t particularly find this funny but Yang looks more annoyed by it so Hanbin doesn’t stop.

“This?” Hanbin mumbles. “You drugged me over a contract?”

Yang’s jaw clenches, “my company was the other contender in their bidding war. And we cut the percentage thirty less than yours and we still lost.”

Over Yang’s shoulders the shadows start to twist into monstrous shapes with neon strobe light eyes.

Hanbin blinks at them, “that’s a... shame.”

Yang advances but still doesn’t touch him. And yet he’s right in Hanbin’s face, enough so that Hanbin can smell his breath, feel the spittle land on his cheek.

Hanbin forgetting the wall, tries to move back again but only manages to bang his head on it

“I staked a lot on that account,” Yang says, a vein appearing on his neck from the clenching of his muscles. “What did you do differently?”

“I didn’t threaten them?” Hanbin quips rather amused with his own reponse.

He blinks slow and long. Someone passes by them to the bathroom, looking rushed. He barely spares them a look, just like the few before him.

“No,” Yang says and it’s barely contained fury. “You offered them something. An incentive. Maybe even yourself. Whatever it was I need to know.”

Hanbin feels an anger bubble inside him, “ _fuck you.”_

His father had thought him better, but Hanbin had lost the sense for any other words.

 **“** ** _Just fucking answer me!_ ** **”** Yang roars.

Hanbin shakes his head, keeping his voice low. “You’re not suited for this business Yang.”

 

\+ + +  

 

The bathroom is empty when Bobby gets there.

He bangs open the stall doors and circles around. The guy said he couldn’t walk so where the hell could he have gone? Certainly not far.

Bobby unlocks his phone right to the call log screen and quickly hits his most recent one.

He steps back out into the hall.

 

\+ + +  

 

Yang’s breathing comes out shallow. He’s holding himself back.

There’s so much Hanbin wants to say. He can feel the pressure of the feelings but not the words. He doesn’t know how to express it anymore than he already did.

He just knows that Yang is _wrong_ and bad  and genuinely not good. Hanbin had gotten that sense before he even accepted the spiked drink. So was it really a wonder that someone holding a multi million dollar deal wouldn’t have gauged that and choose Hanbin’s company instead?

But how to _say_ that?

“ _You–_ “ Yang starts venously but he’s stopped by the ringing of Hanbin’s phone.

Dumbly, they both look down at it as if they’ve forgotten what it was.

The device in question alights in his pocket, shrilling loudly. And Hanbin catches a moment of relief, _Bobby_.

Then the bathroom door opens and they both turn to look at the man who exits into the hall.

Yang seems to connect the two instances first. His posture straightens and he takes a step back from Hanbin, becoming more neutral.

But it’s not until the man turns towards them that Hanbin can see the phone pressed to his ear.

Hanbin makes a strangled sound, caught between relief and a cry. **_Bobby_ **.

The man’s eyes flash first at their faces and then to the phone still ringing in Hanbin’s pocket.

All too slowly Bobby pulls the phone from his ear and observantly hits the end call button.

In reply, the noise in Hanbin’s own pocket stops.

Bobby advances forward.

“Hey.” And it’s more warning than greeting. That scratchy voice on the phone now deep and timberous. 

Hanbin wonders if he imagined the growl.

“Are you ok?” He goes to step in front of Hanbin but Yang intercepts him.

“He’s just–“

“I’ll let you know when I have a fucking question for you,” Bobby snaps. “Right now I’m asking _him_.”

Yang sneers, “we were _just_ talking.”

Bobby ignores him. Staring only at Hanbin. Brow arched and jaw sharpened in tension.

Hanbin’s distracted by all the increasing shapes and movements in his vision. He knows it must be only him who sees it because no one else seems to notice how invasive they were.

“Hanbin,” Bobby speaks then. Softly, kindly. It pulls Hanbin back.

“No,” he says finally. But it’s quiet, he doesn’t even know how Bobby heard him. “I’m not okay.”

“He’s just drunk-” Yang starts up.

And that’s when Bobby punches him.

 

\+ + +  

 

Bobby recognizes Hanbin from the photo id in the app. That small round picture failing in comparison to the real person standing before him.

But when Bobby is this close, it seems that Hanbin can’t even see him. Or he does but his focus changes direction all too quickly. Staring at the walls and empty spaces around them.

Bobby can’t make out Hanbin’s eyes clearly enough to check for dilation. They’re dark around the iris already and in this lighting it is hard to tell if that is just his eye color or the pupil widening dramatically.

Not drunk, Bobby thinks. Or at least not completely. It was something else doing this to him.

Bobby clenches his jaw. Something wasn’t right and this asshole behind him was showing no remorse or concern for it. Just kept going on about how Bobby should mind is own business.

Bobby was about to knock him out for his own sanity when at last Hanbin answers him.

“ _No_ ,” he says. And it’s so breathy soft and worried sounding. Bobby holds his own breath to hear the rest. “ _I’m not okay._.”

“He’s just drunk-“

Bobby’s fist connects with the guy’s jaw before he can finish another lie. And before the guy topples back, Bobby grab’s the dude’s shirt and slams him face first onto the wall.

“What did you give him?” Bobby twists the man’s arm behind his back.

The male makes a pained sound and tries to break away, “fuck. _Fine_. Just take him.”

Bobby pulls the arm even further back and the man screams. Calling him names to hide the way he whimpers into the paint of the walls.

“You seemed to be able to talk so well before when it wasn’t your turn,” Bobby says over him, getting closer to his ear. “But now you won’t answer the question? What. Did. You. _Give_. Him?”

He tightens his hold, moving slightly higher before the man crumples.

“Stop. Stop, please. **_Fuck_ **.”

Bobby stops but keeps the arm pinned uncomfortably where it is. “The answer?”  

This sorry bastard nearly screams it, “it was– it was just Benadryl and some acid. It was just to get him to talk, _shit_.”

The allergy meds would explain the lethargy and LSD the confusion. But mixing drugs like that?

Bobby releases the man, but not without kicking the legs out from under him. Watching as he lands curling in on himself with a moan.

Bobby gets a foot to his side and bares weight on it as he leans over him. The man jerks to free himself.

“You’re lucky that this is all I do to you,” Bobby spits and turns back to Hanbin.

The latter has further slouched down the wall. Bobby gets to his face level.

“Hey,” he says gently, breath flattering. “ Kim, Hanbin right?”

He has to make sure. Plus he has to gauge how much the drugs have affected the male.

Hanbin’s eyes find him but again, don’t seem to focus. “One and only,” he whispers.

Bobby thinks there’s an attempt at a smile but it comes out more as a lopsided show of teeth. 

Bobby smiles for Hanbin’s benefit, “good to see you still have a sense of humor.”

Hanbin’s head lolls to one side, resting on his shoulder.

“Hanbin,” Bobby says. “Do you have any friends here? Anyone you know that could help you?”

Hanbin’s face scrunches as he thinks on this, “I don’t want.”

Bobby waits for there to be more to the answer but it seems like that’s all he was to get.

“Want what?” He presses. “Hanbin, what don’t you want?”

Hanbin shakes his head, “I don’t want to bother them. I don’t want them to know.”

Hanbin’s next breath comes forced and fast like he might cry.

“Hanbin look at me,” Bobby demands. “I’m here for you. I got you. It’s okay.”

Hanbin reaches out a hand and Bobby meets him, letting him grip his forearm.

“You’re real,” Hanbin says like he’s answering an unspoken question.

Bobby sighs through his nose.

“Come on,” he says gently. Moving to wrap Hanbin’s arm over his shoulder. “Let’s get you home.”

  

\+ + +  

 

Hanbin doesn’t let go of Bobby until he’s sitting in the passenger seat of a small blue hatchback.

And even then Bobby has to coax him into doing so. Long enough to buckle Hanbin in and get in on the driver's side.

A few seconds and later, Hanbin sneaks his hand back to him. Managing a hold on Bobby’s jacket pocket as Bobby gets the directions on his phone up and running.

If he noticed, Bobby doesn’t say anything. And as the car starts to move into traffic the lights from the cars around them start to fragment into kaleidoscope patterns. 

Hanbin closes his eyes feeling safe with his tether on Bobby. His fixed point to reality.

 

\+ + + 

 

Bobby’s grip on the steering wheel is bone white tight.

The drive to Hanbin’s destination counts down from fifteen minutes. But it feels longer than that.

Every stop light takes years to change. And each one meets his glare with a forceful urge to turn right back around and make that bastard regret being born.

Another red light and he just obeys the traffic laws. Rolls to a full stop. Keeps a healthy distance from himself and the car in front of him (something the tail rider behind him could stand to learn) and waits.

He glances to Hanbin, asleep with his face toward the window. His reflection transparent there on the glass.

Bobby breathes in slowly on a count of ten through his nose. He was discomforted to think Hanbin attractive.

The latter’s features were soft and yet defined. It made him handsome in a way that Bobby hadn’t expected.

But it felt wrong to think anything of the sort while Hanbin was high on mixed substances and probably having the worst night of his life.

Right now, Bobby’s focus should remain on getting Hanbin home safely. Nothing else.

But he felt more concern for this male than he would normally. And maybe that was why he couldn’t shake this heated temper.

Seeing Hanbin caught in a position such as that... Bobby breathes back out with a new even count of ten.

He doesn’t want to think about the what ifs and could have beens.

Bobby starts to turn away but just as he does so Hanbin's whole body jolts.

In the silence of the car all Bobby can hear is the hum of the engine and occasionally Hanbin’s subtle snore or his own breathing.

But right now the quietness seems pressing, like a rhythm was missing from it.

Bobby looks back.

“Hanbin?” He starts to reach out. The concern he feels spikes higher. Something was off.

_He’s breathing right? Hanbin’s is still breathing?_

Bobby’s centimeters away from putting his hand on Hanbin’s knee when the male gasps startlingly loud.

Bobby jumps. His foot slips from the brake pedal and the whole car jerks forward as he catches himself. 

The motion careens Hanbin’s head forward. The side of it hitting itself on the window.

Bobby winces, “ _sorry_.”

Hanbin’s labored breathing hitches into a whine. The hold he’s got on Bobby’s jacket tugs harder and Bobby wonders at the strength in his pocket to withstand it.

“You’re almost home,” Bobby tries and Hanbin turns to him at the sound of his voice but his eyes follow the lights around them and then away.

“I was swimming,” Hanbin says slowly as though confused by it. “But I wasn’t very good at it.”

“It was just a dream,” Bobby assures. And even if it was more like a nightmare, this fact remained, “you’re safe Hanbin. It’s alright.”

Hanbin lets out a hoarse breathy sound, something pained and on the edge of panic.

“Hanbin,” Bobby repeats. “Listen to me. It’s going to be okay. You’re safe.”

The light ahead of them turns green and Bobby has to turn his attention back to the road. But from the corner of his eye he catches the way Hanbin’s head dips and just as quickly snaps back up when he fails to keep himself awake.

“Are you certain I can’t take you to the hospital?” Bobby had asked before but it didn’t hurt to ask again.

The answer is quiet, “ _no_.”

“ _No_ you're not certain or _no_ you don't want to go?”

“I want to go home.”

Bobby worries his lip but relents. “Okay.”

“Thank you, Bobby.”

Bobby feels heat blossom on the tip of his ears.

Stupidly his heart flutters and he’s so caught up in scolding himself for falling for someone in such a state that he nearly forgets to answer. 

“Don’t worry about it.

 _Smooth_ , he mocks to himself. But at least his grip on the steering wheel relaxes some.

 

 

As Bobby pulls off into the side streets of a quaint neighborhood tucked in between grassy parks and modern apartment buildings, it becomes a little more understandable as to why Hanbin didn’t want that extra hospital attention.

The latter had kept himself awake for the second half of the ride. And vaguely directs Bobby into a sub level parking deck of one of those newer buildings.

Although Bobby had tried to keep himself from assuming things, it was impossible to deny that Hanbin was indeed _rich_.

The kind of rich that had him living with people who owned Bugattis and Ferraris. And here Bobby was with his seven year old dinged up Honda parking between them near the elevators.  

He idles there, the both of them remaining quiet as a minute passes over them.

“Could you–“ Hanbin whispers.

“Help you to your door?” Bobby finishes.

“Yes.”

“Certainly.” Bobby cuts his engine and instead of going through the process of getting Hanbin to let go of his jacket he rathers simply slips out from it. Letting Hanbin keep ahold of it.

As as they start to walk Hanbin’s balance strays. The poor guy looks half asleep. And by the time they exit the lifts onto Hanbin’s floor Bobby’s got Hanbin on his back.

Only to be held up at the door to Hanbin’s apartment as the latter stares at the electronic passcode lock for some time.

Bobby waits patiently, but finally Hanbin admits to him that the numbers looked funny. Wiggly and not in the places they should be. 

Bobby tries to forget the passcode Hanbin tells him as soon as the door swings open. He swears he does, but it seems ingrained into his mind now.

 _6887_ . _Fifth floor. Door on the right._ His brain rattles off quite clearly.

Lights flicker on in the entrance hall inviting them into a space that was the dark of earthy browns and winter greens. It was cozy and warm and not at all what Bobby expected.

He swallows. If it was true about what they say on how a home reflects the person, then this was not helping Bobby’s case at all.

He was falling even more.

 

\+ + +  

 

Bobby had given Hanbin his jacket, had even let him wear it over his shoulders when they got out of the car.

But without Bobby in it, the jacket became nothing more to Hanbin than an old shell. And still he clung to it and the man it belonged too, scared to lose either.

And now here they were in his home. Bobby putting him to bed and Hanbin not letting go.

His vision still made Van Goghs of the textures around him, which was both mesmerizing and scary.

But seeing Bobby amongst the swirls and shapes comforted him. Even as black hare ears grew from his head.

Bobby kneels over him, a hand touching where Hanbin has gripped onto his collar.

“Hanbin,” he says. And Hanbin likes the way Bobby says it. The harder sounds he adds to the beginning of each syllable.

“Stay,” Hanbin says loosely even as his hold tightens. His eyes were falling closed and he needed Bobby. He needed him to remind him that things would be okay.

 

\+ + + 

 

Bobby doesn’t get to fully appreciate Hanbin’s apartment. He catches glimpses of large framed photography on the walls and the thick hardcover stacks of art books set out on various tables.

But he doesn’t get to study them. Doesn’t get to find what Hanbin might love in them or gather a feeling for who Hanbin might be aside from someone Bobby would like to know.

All he looks for is a bed.

“Should shower first,” Hanbin says dully.

Bobby laughs, “I don’t think that’s a good idea. You can hardly walk.”

“A bath then.”

Bobby wanders down the hall, glancing into the rooms as he goes.

“It’ll just have to wait.”

Hanbin sighs into his neck. The feeling of it pricking his skin.

Luckily, the last room on the left showcases a fully made bed when Bobby looks in. The colors the same as the rest of the apartment but more sparse in decor and more intimate in nature.

Bobby hits the lights and rolls Hanbin off his back and onto the mattress. As he goes to stand back up Hanbin snags him.

For a second Hanbin just stares at him. Eyes slowly blinking and then looking up over his hairline.

“Hanbin,” Bobby says. Touching the hand death gripping his collar.

“ _Stay_.”

Bobby’s heart jumps. Hanbin’s eye close and don’t reopen right away, close to sleep.

“Hanbin,” he says again. “I shouldn’t.”

“Please,” a whine.

And what was he supposed to do? Say _no_?

“I can call someone for you?” Bobby offers. “Wait with you until they get here.”

Hanbin doesn’t respond, he fell asleep again.

“Hanbin? Hey.”

Still no response.

Bobby sighs. Maybe just for a little while then.

He undoes Hanbin’s grip on his shirt. The fabric puckering where it’s been stretched. Even after Bobby smooths it down.

He rolls to the other side of the bed pulling out Hanbin’s phone from the shirt pocket as he goes.

Perhaps he could call someone for him. But the when the lock screen flashes up and the door code Bobby remembers fails to work, Bobby puts the idea aside.

Instead he pulls out his own phone and double checks what he knows of LSD and the reaction it can have with Benadryl.

And when Hanbin again and again loops through his nightmares, waking startled and panicked through the hours that Bobby stays there, Bobby drops the idea of having this be anyone else.

Maybe he was greedy or too nice a person to not care. But Hanbin calls him by his name sometimes and holds him by the hand. And each time it’s Bobby who walks him through the waking. Repeatedly telling him where he was and what was happening. And always, _always_ , that things would be okay.

He talks until Hanbin calms down, sometimes falling right back asleep and other times staying awake enough to tell Bobby what he saw.

“It’s just a dream,” Bobby reminds him.

The hold on his hand tightens.

“Yeah,” Bobby assures, not having moved from the edge of Hanbin’s bed. “I’m still here.”

 

\+ + + 

  

Hanbin stands at the foot of his bed.

The world was as it should be again. No creatures stirring out of shadows or animal features growing from people’s heads or lights and patterns kaleidoscope-ing in on themselves.

Whatever dosage of drugs he was given have worn off during the long fitful night. And standing here now, he finds himself lucky to be able to just vaguely recall all the nastier details of the experience.  

But he remembers Bobby.

He remembers him punching and talking down to that Yang fellow. And he also remembers him in the kindness of his face, driving him home and staying with him through his outbursts.

Hanbin was embarrassed, but all the more grateful to him.

He takes a sip from his mug of hot chocolate. His hands enjoying the warmth of it.

He had since showered and changed after waking up an hour or so ago, and still Bobby stayed asleep, chastely glued to the far edge of his mattress.

Hanbin didn’t mind it. It gave him time to study him. To catch the subtle shifts in his face right before waking.

The slow way his eyes part. The long inhale as his body stretches. And then the startled jump as he sees the empty bed and then the surroundings.

But when their eyes meet Bobby smiles, soft and relieved.

Hanbin deliberately blinks, like the shutter of a camera. As if to hold the memory of that face in his mind.

“How do you feel?” Bobby asks, voice groggy and thick.

Hanbin’s stomach flips, feeling shyed by it and all the more drawn to how good a person Bobby must be to wonder that.

“Good. _Better_ ,” Hanbin replies.

“I’m glad,” Bobby sits up further.

“Hot chocolate?” Hanbin suddenly offers, then amends it. “Or tea. I can also fetch you a coffee should you prefer.”

He sorta babbles that out, haven been caught off guard by the sudden desire to let Bobby stay just a little longer.

Hanbin glances down at his drink. _Don’t make yourself into a fool._

“Hot chocolate?” And it’s caught on a small disbelieving laugh.

Hanbin feels a little hopeful, “with a pinch of salt to make the coco sweeter.”

He looks back up under the brim of his lashes, “or tea. I said that I also have tea.”

Bobby seems all too happy to answer with “I’ll just have what you’re having.”

Hanbin smiles as he looks down to his cup again. Fiddling with the spoon still steeped within it.

“Hot chocolate it is then.”

 

 

 

~


	2. My World Will Become You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title for this chapter comes from the song Mundo by IV of Spades [ [x](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xKk655CDFn8)] which was given to me by Stef way back in the early planning ♥

A cold sweat has started to condensed in the grip of his palm. Slick and shaking, he tightens his hold on the glass of amber liquid.

A week ago Hanbin could have done this without thinking.

A week ago this would have been easy.

But a _week_ _ago_ didn’t end with him being drugged stupid.

_ Just get it over with. _

His knuckles pale with effort as he fights to keep his hand steady and the cup from falling.

He brings it up to his lips. The substance within splashes at the walls like breaking waves to a cliff.

So close. Just nearly.

And then… not at all.

The brim had reached him, but he’d let slip control of his body. A weakness of an inhaled breath that brought on the assault of the pungent, disgusting perfume of sticky sweetness to his nose.

Hanbin’s stomach lurches. Forced bile bubbles up in the back of his throat.

He gags, his chest constricting in tight spasms. The bitter flavor of burnt acid filling his mouth and lingering on his taste buds even after he swallows it back down.

Unshed tears sting the corners of his eyes and in his haste to be rid of the offense Hanbin slams the glass back down on the marble counter.

The music in its wrongness hits him before the realization. The shrill sounds of crystalized song followed by the delicate applauding  _ tink _ of splintered shards falling away onto polished stone.

Hanbin pulls his hand hastily backwards eyeing the broken dishware he once held whole. The amber juice it contained now seeping freely out from the irreparable vessel.

It spreads in a slow march towards him, gathering the dribblets of red liquid rubies that’ve landed in its path. The two colors mixing with wispy swirls like paint to water.

For seconds Hanbin can only stare, still too entranced by his surprise to understand what he was seeing. But when the dawning comes his jaw clenches.

He overturns his palm to find the source and only then, when the wound has been given recognition, does the pain come.

A slicing, screaming sting that emanates out from the broken bit of glass embedded in the skin between his thumb and forefinger. 

The air hisses through his teeth at the sight of it. All angry red and wet with blood. 

And he just can’t help but think how days ago he would have been kinder to himself. Softer and more consoling. But upon seeing this  _ mess _ he’s made, Hanbin finds he has no forgiveness to offer.

In its place, a sudden blinding force of reckless anger awakens. Urging him to lash out, to scream, to rage, and throw the pieces of glass across the room without care for further hurt.

He wants to take it out on the inanimate jug of apple juice sitting atop his counter. Its plastic body sweating in the warmth of his kitchen and looking more and more like an incriminating piece of evidence to this new weakness of his.

Maybe if he was a lesser person he’d give into it. Doing nothing for himself but tantrum for a return of his normal self.

Dam away the triggering side effects left on him from  _ that _ night. Haunting his days like ghosts from his past.

Those distorted memories he has of that time invading his dreams and flaring up when he least expects them. The lights. The sounds.  _ Yang _ .

A welling sense of frustration presses up behind his eyes.

_ Don’t _ , he chides.

Letting go a shaky breath he closes his eyes, bringing forth the clearer memories of the smiling male at his breakfast table. The one who had stayed through the night with him to make sure he was okay. Who told him what happened when Hanbin had questioned it and didn’t ask for anything more in return but assurance that Hanbin could find help if he needed it.

Bobby was a comfort even now without being here. A stranger, and yet enough of a reminder of good to rally Hanbin back to composure.

His spine straightens, his shoulders square themselves and he gets to removing the bit of glass from his skin with held breath.

Tossing the shard into the sink, he moves to the sterile light of his bathroom to better address the injury.

Returning cleansed and bandaged, he gingerly clears away the rest of his mess with a wet towel. Wiping away the sticky residue left on the counter as he goes.

He tosses it all into the trash receptor when  he’s done and a little more roughly shoves the remaining juice left in its container to back of his fridge. Slamming the door on its mocking whispers before he can make out the sounds of it.

Hanbin slowly leans back. If he still couldn’t face this, then he should at least face the other thing he’s been avoiding.

He runs a hand over his face. He already took the day off from work so might as well.

 

\+ + +

 

Bobby taps his pen repeatedly against the wood of his desk. Halting when more than a few of his college classmates turn to cast him annoyed glares.

Shied by his noise making he switches to jostling his legs up and down. But it’s no better as the plastic of his school ID clinks against the keys on his lanyard.

Someone clears their throat at this and it brings Bobby back to the times his mother would do the same when a younger him was restless during the long boring sermons at church.

Bobby immediately stills himself, ignoring the building pressure to do something,  _ anything _ .

He’s been like this since that night he spent with Hanbin.

Was it too much to expect a call back?

Even with all the shit that happened before hand, Bobby still felt like they managed to hit it off remarkably well the following morning.

At least that’s what he thought. It could have been different for Hanbin.

Of course, Bobby  _ could _ just call the male himself. Or shoot a text... Since that was the whole point of leaving his jacket behind,  _ right? _ So he could have this excuse?

A simple  _ hello, sorry to bother but I think I left my jacket in your apartment?  _ It really was that easy.

Hanbin’s number is still listed as  _ unknown _ in his call history. Just a click away from being saved into his contacts.

But Bobby can never bring himself to raise the phone to do it. He just stares at.

What if Hanbin wanted to forget everything about that night? Including Bobby himself.

Could Bobby blame him?

He heaves a heavy sigh. That was one of his favorite jackets too…

He sinks a little further into his chair feeling all the more dejected when a glance towards the classroom’s clock tells him there’s still an hour to go of this lecture. And unless this lesson was about to give him some life advice on how to get over someone you only met once who obviously wants to be done thinking about you, it wasn’t gonna get any more interesting.

With a roll of his head Bobby starts tapping the pen again.

 

\+ + +

 

Hanbin wasn’t nervous, except that he sorta most certainly  _ is _ .

He could draft the perfect message no problem. But to hit send always had him faltering.

To put in that effort. To maybe see him again. To possibly start something?

The problem was that Hanbin didn’t really know what he wanted.

Bobby made him curious about a few different things.

For starters, how could someone be so genuinely nice and charming? And then how was he able to make Hanbin feel so instantly safe, and warm, and wanted?

Hanbin’s had crushes before. He’s social enough for business reasons to have felt the pull of interest.

However, none of them ever extended past that. One conversation later and he could forget. Those feelings coming and going like favorite songs on the radio.

And yet, Bobby lasted. Maybe because the experience was different. More memorable?

Either way, it wasn’t something Hanbin was used to.

Rarely did he allow people come into his apartment that weren’t family. And  _ never _ has someone else stayed the night in his bed.

His stomach flips over at the reminder. They hadn’t done anything and yet the back of his neck prickles with alarming intensity.

Hanbin tightens a fist on the folded jacket in his lap. Such feelings discomforted him.

He had washed the sheets since Bobby’s stay. And should he have the chance to return it, he had done the same with the jacket as a small gesture of thoughtfulness.

Finding that even after the wash and all of Hanbin’s clinging to it, the jacket still smelled of its original owner. A trait Hanbin maybe enjoys when the nights are long and dark.

And he knows he should make the proposition to give it back, that he  _ wants _ to give it back. Yet  _ hasn’t _ .

But Bobby hasn’t called him either. So maybe this was a discardable thing.

Though Hanbin rather hopes for the opposite. He feels like it’s the perfect excuse to meet again. His text already written out.

All he has to do is hit send.

 

\+ + +

 

Bobby slyly pulls his phone out.

Maybe it was just his imagination but he thought he saw the glow of the screen light up the dark confines of his bag.

Habit already made him used to checking for notifications. Wishful thinking made his conscious nag at the possibility that every waking moment he wasn’t looking directly at his phone was the moment he’d missed Hanbin’s call.

He goes to check it now, sheltering it from view behind his mixed stack of –ology text books.

It’s no use getting his hopes up but his chest still momentarily tightens itself in anticipation as his fingers reach for the side button.

The screen alights and his stomach drops out with a sickening hollowing. Meanwhile, his heart returns to work with a disappointed knock against his ribs.

**_Low battery_ ** was obviously not the notification he was hoping for.

Had he used it that much already?

Bobby rumages for his charger, pulling out the duct taped entanglement along with a miscellaneous slew of papers and pens.

He quickly stuffs those last few things back into the chasm of his bag. Huffing as he retreats from the sudden expenditure of energy.

He plugs the sorry looking worn wire into the usb outlet in the desk. Arranging and rearranging the snaking curves until the red, then green, then red, then green procession of his battery charge finally halts on a happy green. 

Bobby holds his breath as he moves away, slipping back into a dismal distraction of note taking turned doodling. Not that it does anything to keeping his eyes open. 

The minutes drag into soft mummers as he half listens to what's around him. The hum of the ventilation and the monotonous voice of the professor. 

_ Just listening. Listening...  _

His mind races with thoughts and odd day dreams. But, now heavy with the weight of those images, his head suddenly dips down. Sending his world suddenly off kilter and tittering on perilous edges of cliffs.

Bobby jolts back awake, startling both his phone and the boy a few empty seats away from him. 

The other male casts Bobby a weary look after the initial shock and Bobby bows his head in an embarrassed apology while the battery level of his phone dances between colors again. He taps the wire until it settles. 

In the front of the classroom the powerpoint has changed into a different topic then he remembers last and Bobby considers this a good sign until a glance at the clock tells him only ten minutes have passed. 

He internally cries. It was just gonna be one of those days. Unbelievable, he didn’t deserve this.

A unwarranted sigh comes from him and the phone, sensing the stir of air, disconnects  _ again _ . 

Bobby blinks back an exhausted eye roll. He’ll need that new charger wire sooner than later.

He’s just about managed a new adjustment to cord’s S curve when the phone lights up with not only the comforting lighting bolt striked through the battery icon but a new message notification.

His heart launches excitedly up into his throat at the prospect that it could be from Hanbin. And he tries to simmer the hope before its dashed again. But as he looks closer the ticklish feelings inside his stomach intensify because right there on his screen is a text from a number unnamed but not unknown.

It really was Hanbin.

**_Just now:_ ** _ Bobby. Apologies for being so last minute with this request, but would you care to join me for.... _

Bobby slides it open to read the rest.

_ “...lunch today? I believe I have something of yours in need of returning. Please let me know your availability if you find meeting to be favorable. -Kim Hanbin.”  _

Bobby can’t help the giddiness that erupts inside himself. Expending it in a full faced smile and a little seated wiggle of a dance.

He’d even laugh out loud if his tongue wasn’t tied up with the keyboard smashing sounds in his head.

_ ‘Fuck yes let’s go right now’ _ , is the first reply that comes to mind. But Hanbin had texted him so eloquently that Bobby can’t afford a lack of formality to scare the male off.

He just needs a moment to think.

His pen taps in rapid fire against the pages of his notebook. A loud  _ plunk plunk plunk _ that stirs the students around him again.

He ignores them, focusing only on the clock above the exit door as he counts the minute markings around its face.

He’ll be good and finish the lesson to avoid any absent attendee marks even though every cell of his body was now willing to make a run for it. But this was his responsibility to being a student, and he took that seriously enough to deal with the restlessness it might cause. 

That amounted to thirty more minutes and then he’ll want to drop his books and things off at the dorm and probably change into something more presentable than a Bob Marley tee shirt. Maybe something more chic too incase they go somewhere out of his price range.

_ Shit _ , he hadn’t showered yesterday.

Bobby breaks his stare on the clock to pluck a bit of his shirt up to his nose.  _ Well it wouldn’t hurt,  _ he thinks.

All of that is likely an additional forty minutes and only if he’s not doing any  _ grooming _ .

He pauses to consider this.

It was hard to tell from what they had if Hanbin liked him like  _ that _ .

Bobby could see himself with Hanbin although he knew, at least for today, it was too soon for such intimacy. Maybe.

_ No _ . He’d wait for Hanbin to make those moves. But perhaps he should be somewhat prepared?

If not for Hanbin then for his own peace of mind, a light groom and cleaning.  _ Just incase. _

He turns back to his phone, pen quieting as he moves to type a reply.

_ ‘Hey,’  _ he starts with and then erases.

_ ‘Hanbin,’  _ he tries instead.  _ ‘It’s good to hear from you again. I have plenty of time to meet after 1pm. Will you be needing a ride?’ _

He hits send before he can second guess it, wondering idolly about where they’ll go and if Hanbin indeed owned one of those high profile cars he saw in the garage.

Hanbin’s response is quick, those infamous three dots not even getting the chance to draw out the suspense before turning into words.

_ “No. I’m alright, thank you. I’d like to pick you up this time.’” _

Bobby’s stomach flips over.

_ ‘I’ll send you the address.’  _ He answers, switching into a different app to copy the location of where he wanted Hanbin to meet him.

His hands were shaking.

Bobby glances at the clock above the door again. The minutes were surely to drag out more painfully now.

 

\+ + +

 

Initially, Hanbin was surprised by how quickly this had all come together.

The time since the first text was sent flew by to this one drawn out minute. His body leant back on the sleek hood of a black Maserati GranTurismo while parked in front of Seoul National University’s student center, waiting for Bobby.

His stomach flutters. 

_ Bobby _ , from what Hanbin could assume from the timely response to his texts, seemed eager to meet up again. And that allowed Hanbin to be more than hopeful that this wasn’t a fool’s errand. That the male he had trusted all those nights ago wasn’t just a mistaken fluke of his own imagination.

He presses a hand over his chest. His heart would not quiet its increased tempo. The madness of it induces a restlessness inside him and a lightness in his head. To which he had no cure or name for. And yet even though alarming in its newness, it wasn’t completely unwanted.

But shaken by it still, Hanbin closes his eyes to breathe a little more evenly without distraction.

He basks in the warmth of the sun caressing his back and finds solace in the sturdiness of concrete against the rubber soles of his sockless, low rise Converse.

Through his nose he focuses on the mixed scents of campus life around him. The fumes of the passing cars, the more pleasant smells of the dining hall, and the subtlety of breaking spring that leaves a tickle in his nose.

It all wills his jitteriness down to a manageable expectant hum in his bloodstream by the time he hears the approach of footsteps.

Hanbin looks up. All the waiting and overthinking and finally the distance between them now just an arm’s length.

His eyes first alight on the handsome grin Bobby gives him. Then to reactivity of Bobby’s body language. The casualness of hands dug into jean pockets and tell tale signs of a fresh shower in the nearly dry floof of wavy hair glinting traces of chestnut browns in the high noon sun.

Bobby tosses back the stubborn flyaways that’ve fallen across his eyes.

“ _ Hey _ ,” he says warmly in the raspy low voice Hanbin remembers.

“ _ Bobby _ ,” Hanbin straightens to return the greeting. Arms falling to his sides. “Hello. How have you been?”

“Good,” Bobby’s eyes travel along the lines of the car in a way that feeds Hanbin’s pride. “How are you?”

Hanbin loosens a breath at the impact of genuine concern in Bobby’s tone. The standard answers fleeing from his tongue as the truth urges itself to be told.

Their eyes meet again in the second it takes Hanbin to stop himself. His skin tingling as the strong emotions from that night consume him and all he wants is to refind that safety Bobby once gave him.

For some reason, he doesn’t think Bobby would fault him if he did. But Hanbin, just a breath late in reply, manages a practiced smile instead. “I’ve been well. Thank you for asking.”

“I’m glad,” Bobby says softly. “Shall we head out then?”

He comes in closer to Hanbin’s side, conspiratorial in his added, “ _ People are starting to stare.” _

There was no one close enough to hear them, but Hanbin feels like the moment would break if he spoke any louder than this.

“At the car I’m sure.”

Bobby’s head tilts, a meniscal movement accented by the way his grin slides into something crooked.  _ No _ . “At you,” he says.

Hanbin looks past Bobby’s shoulder to the other faces scattered throughout the courtyard. Their travels slow going or halted to face them.

Bobby’s observation was correct, but the reason was only still speculation and yet Hanbin wouldn’t mind if Bobby was right on that front too.

Hanbin slips his own hands into the pockets of his slacks, angling himself towards Bobby and feeling all the more precarious when he asks, “what do they see?”

Bobby spares no second. “A handsome guy with an expensive car.”

Hanbin meets his stare. “And what do  _ you _ see?”

Bobby's expression doesn’t falter, “a really handsome guy who asked me out to lunch.”

A breath, and then Hanbin laughs. A deep throated giggle of a sound that surprises them both.

It ends as quickly as it started but lingers in the rise of Hanbin’s cheeks.

He has to look away first, disarmed in a way he hadn’t expected. He gets the feeling that Bobby knew what he was doing when he said that.

 

\+ + +

 

Bobby boards the shuttle just as the doors close. In the distance the clock tower musically chimes its song for the new hour.

He’s cutting it close and hadn’t really accounted for the lazy ins and outs of the rest of the passengers at the following stops.

Holding position by the middle exit he bolts through the doors as soon as his stop comes up and the doors allow him the width of space to do so.

He tears across the green lawns and bounds up the grey stairs sidewalks up to the top of the hill.

The courtyard stretches out before him and there at the edge of it directly across him Bobby spots him.

The subtlety of the male’s richness not unobvious with the twenty times tuition costly car parked behind him or the relaxed way he leans on it.

Bobby brakes, out of breath. He needlessly adjusts the shoulders of his white tee and checks the fly of his black skinnys. Then while setting off with a determined casual walk he finger combs his hair back one last time.

As he draws closer he slides his hands into his pockets to keep them from awkwardly hanging about and tries to regain some air to his panting lungs.

Bobby knew it was shameless of himself to have asked Hanbin to pick him up here instead of the mile or so closer to the dorms. It would have certainly have been easier than him footing the extra minutes for commute to get here.

But when Bobby gets closer to the seemingly meditative male all the work pays off as girl after girl in passing tosses their hair back and look over their shoulders coyly hoping for a glance in their direction.

And if it wasn’t them then it was the guys checking out the car with awe and envy.

Bobby’s nothing but satisfied. He walks right past them, enjoying the stir in attention set on him. His eyes attuned solely towards the man that up til now he could only dream of seeing again.

He wanted the proof of it. Witnesses and alibis. And he wanted to show it off. This maybe acquaintanceship, maybe friendship, maybe to be something more.

If it all failed, at least he’d still have this moment.

He rakes the sight of Hanbin in. He was no longer the drugged confused male or exhibiting morning mussed shyness.

No. Hanbin was was all casual business and class. Someone who knew that a pale blue button up with lighter grey pants was a classic. But undo the top three buttons to pair the V of skin there with the flash of bare ankles and iconic low tops, made all the difference between office and date.

With a hand pressed to his chest and head hung low to cover the closure of his eyes, Hanbin looked to be in prayer. Reminding Bobby of biblical paintings done up for pure temptations rather than holy appeal.

He approaches and the spell breaks. Their eyes meet and then they’re talking and Bobby tries his hand at flirting. Coming closer to Hanbin to whisper the punchline. 

He expects maybe a blush or a smile but is gifted a startled laugh that ends gloriously with the finding of Hanbin having little indentations of dimples.

Bobby’s heart goes for his throat. He wanted to do that again. He wanted to make Hanbin laugh, to smile such as this.

But it’s Hanbin who comes back to himself first. His hand slides from his pocket in a fist and holds aloft in the space between them.

Bobby curiously stares at it, his mind still circling other thoughts as his own hand slowly rises to catch whatever it is that Hanbin appeared to be giving him.

“I’ll let you drive it.”

It takes a moment for Bobby to string the conversations together. To feel the weight of a key in his palm over the tingling spots where Hanbin’s fingers brushed his.

But then he  _ gets _ it and his childish grin of enthusiasm is answer enough.

Hanbin turns to the passenger side door but Bobby beats him there, his hand eclipsing Hanbin’s has his chest bumps the male’s back.

“Allow me,” he says feeling the tension suddenly sing through Hanbin’s body.

Bobby holds his breath, opening the door thinking maybe he’s pushed too far. But then Hanbin turns to look at him as he slips inside the car and it was not the expression of someone asking him to stop.

The door closes with a quiet grace and Bobby rounds himself to the other side where he less than gracefully throws himself into the driver’s seat.

At the close of his own door the outside world falls away. A hush falls upon them with smells of fine leather and cleanly newness.

It was luxury and it was here for Bobby to touch, to feel, to  _ enjoy _ .

He runs his hands over the red interior details. And sighs like he’s meant to say more but the words don't compare rightly to this outer body feeling.

“ _ Start it, _ ” Hanbin caresses. “We have a reservation.”

 

 

The place Hanbin picked for them was charmingly not a five star establishment where Bobby could disgrace himself by using a dinner fork for the salad. It was instead a white walled, white table cloth, ice water poured into your glass where the real signs of money were exposed in the valet parking and the missing prices on the menus.

Probably four stars then. Clearly five stars would have gotten him a concert pianist at their table side and a free basket of imported bread.

And yet sitting here, out of his element and feeling quite in awe, does not make him feel necessarily out of place.

He looks around at the other patrons. A few them also in jeans and not paying them any mind as the conversations rise and fall in volume.

“ _ Please _ ,” Hanbin says with ease. “Order anything you want. My treat.”

Bobby turns back to him, hooking his leg over his knee and leaning closer to the table.

“I’ll take the most expensive thing naturally.”

“The shrimp scampi with white truffle?”

“Oh,” Bobby backs up to glance at the menu. “No, not that.”

He’s thankful to find that menu was still remarkably in korean and not the fancy cursive of italian or french.

“The steak then,” he says after a moment.

“Not a seafood lover?”

“No, not really,” Bobby mumbles catching the amused smile Hanbin gives him.

“The steak is a fine choice.”

“It’s probably worth more than the jacket.”

“Regardless, your company is worth more than both.”

It’s a compliment he thinks. And if it wasn’t that, then it was flirting. The first attempt Bobby’s heard from Hanbin.

Bobby warms to it like a leaf to the sun. But it comes with a zapping feeling of guilt and concern that this might be forced.

He has to communicate it now before it grows into something worse.

 

\+ + +

 

_ Hanbin was 19 when he was to make his first business acquisition. _

_ He was young and too many still mistook him as the quiet, fresh faced boy they fawned over when his father brought him to meetings and trade shows. _

_ The prospect of him being CEO has always been known, but in the size of his father’s foot fall it often lacked the seriousness it deserved. _

_ Nonetheless, Hanbin’s had his schooling. Early graduation and advanced classes. Not to mention the lineage of his father himself. _

_ He  _ **_is_ ** _ the CEO, Vice President to be and his father treated him as such. _

_ To fail would be a costly mistake chopped up to inexperience. But to fail with so much of his father’s trust in him would tarnish more than his own pride. _

_ Hanbin understood this and it did not scare him. He knew what he wanted and he knew how to get it. _

_ “Where are you taking the finance director to dinner?” _

_ Hanbin turns to his father. _

_ “Barbecue.” _

_ “You understand the importance of this acquisition, yes? The make or break of it could very well rest on the place of your dinner choice.” _

_ “Yes, Father.” _

_ “Yet, still you do not pick something more formal? Spoil him a bit more?” _

_ He was being tested. _

_ “I have not made my decision based on the money I can spend to show off, but on the man himself.” Hanbin explains calmly. “The guest’s comfort for such luxuries should always be taken into account.” _

_ “Explain.” _

_ “He is a man who respects hard work and comaridary. He doesn’t mind rolling up his sleeves to get something done.” Hanbin waits for a nod from his father to continue. _

_ Once granted, “I therefore decided on the traditional setting of Korean barbecue. It is often the go for after work outings which means it is of comfort to my guest as he will know what to expect. He’ll likely be more open and friendly in nature as we talk and I’ll have better success here than a more formal place where his attention would be distracted on the correct usage of knives and forks or extensive foreign food options.” _

_ His father regards him silently and then asks causally, “kobe beef?” _

_ Hanbin smiles, “ _ **_no_ ** _. Hanwoo, naturally.” _

_ Father smiles back at him, “You’ve learned well.” _

_ “I’ve learned from the best.” _

_ “Come here,” he says with some affection. _

_ Hanbin does as he’s told. His father no longer the towering figure over him as their shoulders come even when he stops just before him. _

_ Warm hands brace his neck just under his jaw. His father holding his face up for them to see eye to eye. _

_ “The day I have nothing left to teach you will be the day you are ready.” _

_ Hanbin surges with a rush of excitement and apprehension. “There is still a lot I do not know.” _

_ His father chuckles, “then you must learn faster or I fear your mother’s nagging for longer vacations will only grow worse.” _

_ Hanbin smiles sheepishly, “yes, Father.” _

_ “You will do well tonight,” he releases Hanbin’s face to tap a single knuckle against his forehead. “You have this afterall. _

Hanbin considers the male before him.

Bobby has a body of shapes and crafted lines. The more Hanbin looked the more his fingers itched for the release of a shutter.

The boxy frame of his shoulders, the cut of his jaw, the curves of biceps peeking out from under the sleeves of his tee.

It was art. And yet Bobby was suddenly folding in on himself. The self confidence he exuded before sinking away with nothing but nervous angst to fill in.

Maybe Hanbin had said something wrong, although he does not know what. Or perhaps it was a mistake in the choice of their setting.

Bobby had showed no sense of discomfort before this. From the car until now he had seemed excited, joyous even.

Hanbin was so sure that Bobby would appreciate some spoiling that it could have slipped his mind in the need to impress him that Hanbin had a crossed a line.

He leans forward, determined to right this. But it’s Bobby who speaks first.

“You don’t owe me,” he looks into Hanbin’s eyes. “For anything.”

It hangs there between them. A call back to  _ that _ night. All that Bobby did for him.

_ Oh _ , is all Hanbin thinks.

He can’t say he wasn’t expecting that to come up. But to actually hear it puts him on edge.

_ You don’t owe me _ . That was a lie. Hanbin owed him. Was forever thankful to him. But his reasons for wanting to see him again are separate from that.

It was not a service of indenture that brought them together now. Though he could see why Bobby thought so.

“That’s not,” Hanbin pauses to breathe. He felt suddenly unguarded with what he wanted to say.

He leans back away.

“I believe that there will always be a part of me that is inexplicably thankful to it being you that helped me.” Hanbin looks momentarily away to a duo at another table and then back to Bobby. “However, I asked you out today in the hopes that we can get to know each other beyond that.”

Bobby’s eyes waver down to just above Hanbin’s chin and then disappear behind the soft simpering smile that blossoms.

Hanbin’s trigger finger twitches, his eyes blinking instead of the lens of his slr.

He swallows. Bobby’s body unfurls back into its former surety.

“Are you trying to woo me Kim Hanbin?” The expression changes into something more playful.

This time it’s Hanbin’s heart that jumps for the press of the button. He blinks again.

“ _ Are you ready to order?” _

Hanbin’s glass of ice water almost topples off the table when his hand knocks into it. He manages to catch it with minimal spilling much to the delight of the waiter and himself.

“Pardon,” he says shaking off the surprise with a light laugh. “Yes we are.” 

 

\+ + +

 

Bobby wasn’t expecting an answer but seeing Hanbin get flustered was enjoyable.

“Bobby,” Hanbin minutely straightens his set of utensils into their parallel lines and moves the water a safe distance away from himself. “Do you think this is a date?”

It was an odd question and if he had not heard the soft way Hanbin had spoken it Bobby might have understood it differently. 

But as it was, Hanbin just seemed curious. 

For Bobby it was not a matter of if this was or wasn’t but more that he  _ wanted _ it to be. 

He vividly remembers the sweet floundering over hot chocolate and more recently the rigidity in which Hanbin's body snapped into when they had touched by the car. And so Bobby puts aside the thoughts of himself and this male in favor for reading Hanbin as he was. What his unsaid words spoke to. 

He deconstructs what he’s seen and knows and answers accordingly. Knowing good things come unrushed.

“We’re just getting to know each other,” Bobby twirls the fork upright on the table under his forefinger. “Though if you’re gonna spoil me a bit more I not opposed. My favorite color is purple.”

They look up at the same time, Bobby smiles. “Just thought you should know.”

Whatever stress Hanbin had over asking the question seems to ease right out of him. The last of it expelled in a whisp of breathy humor. 

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.” 

 

\+ + +

 

He must have stared for longer than he intended because Bobby glances from the road to catch him looking.

Hanbin blinks, he looked pleased.

“Next time you should bring a camera.”

There was no secret to Hanbin’s dabbling in photography. An occupational hobby from work that’s grown more personal as the years’ve gone by. And Bobby’s learned that much from the short stay in his apartment. But it was alarming how close Bobby’s jest came to the truth.

And yet to say that Hanbin wants him printed in black and white with high contrast and odd angles, seemed far to intimate for Bobby to understand.

“What are you thinking?” Bobby asks when Hanbin remains quiet. 

Hanbin averts his attention to look out the window. “That you said  _ next time _ and I liked the sound of that.”

He catches another wayward glance at him in the reflection. Bobby fails to notice his watching and gives him a once over.

Hanbin thinks he enjoys that too.

“I  _ would _ like to see you again,” Bobby admits.

Hanbin’s pulse flutters but it’s nothing to the short wiggle of a dance Bobby does when Hanbin says “ _ I would like that too.” _

Hanbin quickly tamps down the smile that threatens to expose them both.

“I’ll send you my schedule then,” Bobby says with a palpable excitement. 

Hanbin fills with it. “I’ll look forward to it. Thank you, Bobby.” 

He turns back to the male. How different it was now compared to the first time they were like this. And yet even with the forced high and vulnerabilities stripped away the same sense of comfort and desire to stay with him remained.

“Did you have any plans for the rest of the day?”

“I’m free or well...  _ actually _ ,” Bobby sounds a bit abashed. “I need to pick up a new phone charger.”

Bobby glances at him. Hanbin smiles.

“A purple one?”

Bobby laughs, “ _ eyy _ I think I can afford this one.”

“But you’re not opposed?”

“I’m not opposed.” Bobby flashes him a smirk. “ _ But just so you know _ I’m down for cheap pizzas and netflix too.”

Hanbin returns the smirk with a bubble of hope. “ _ Noted _ .”

 

 

~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi loves~ hope you all are doing well. I'm inching along with the writing but else wise I'm doing fine :) hope you enjoyed these massive dorks being cute in love (or almost love)
> 
> Shout outs to my beautiful beta Paloma. And to Stef who lets me rattle on and on sometimes without direction about this fic but remains excited none the less. I might also bump the up to 4 chapters...but I suppose it just depends on how much I squeeze into the third chapter. Hmmm... we'll see lol. Paloma says I should just keep it on as a slice of life to go on forever xD
> 
> Also many of you asked about the age gap. I didn't change it so much in my mind, but if you like imagining Hanbin as the older one by some years that's OK. I imagined them both in their 20's. Just remember that Hanbin is still super young in his field. But the when of meeting Bobby can be up to you as the reader. 
> 
> thank you~ you know comments make me happy♥

**Author's Note:**

> Believe it or not but this whole fic was inspired by Bruno Mars' What I Like. Maybe not this part exactly, but there'll be rose petals on beds and fancy suites and vacations soon enough. And thus the fic as a whole is more or less a 'music fic'. But, ironically we didn't nail a song down for this chapter 100% but unofficially it's Jaymes Young's Don't You Know [ [x](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_rA9o8k4-uA) ] (Meanwhile the title of this fic has no reference to the Lord Huron song haha)
> 
> But alas, many thanks to Stef aka [situationoverload here on ao3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/situationoverload/pseuds/situationoverload) who added input and songs as this fic was being crafted. AND special shout out to Paloma who read this through to tell me it wasn't crap ily~
> 
> Rn, I have the chapter count at 3 but it might jump up to 4. WE'LL SEE.


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